Wake Up
by memory.woman
Summary: Her heart raced. How could she have ever doubted that she had taken a part in dream invasion? This was her life now, and she fully embraced it. Being able to work with Arthur again was simply an added bonus. Arthur/Ariadne. R&R please &thanks!


I own nothing. Enjoy!

**Edit: I added a bit from Arthur's point of view, because I decided that I liked the idea of knowing what both thought. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

It had been one month since inception. Thirty days, seventeen hours, thirty-seven minutes, and twelve seconds to be exact. Ariadne had kept a good count. The time since the operation had crept by, lurching and slow. She thought it would be easy to fall back into the routine of her normal life. She returned to Paris two days after the team had miraculously and successfully completed inception on their mark, Robert Fischer. Soon after she was wired a large sum of money from Saito. But that was it. That was all she heard from anyone on the team.

Sometimes, Ariadne wondered if she had dreamed it all to begin with. She would mindlessly check her totem each time she woke up and each time she went to bed, just to be sure she was in reality. No one talked to her about it. No sign of anyone from the team had been seen since. She knew that the inception had really happened from watching the news and seeing Fischer dissolve his father's company. That was about the only evidence she had. If it weren't for that, Ariadne probably would have thought the whole thing was a dream. It was so unreal. You probably wouldn't believe it if it happened to you.

She moved into a new flat – a rather expensive one – and tried to fall back into the life she had known before she became _the_ architect, construing miraculous snow-capped mountains and detailed, complex hotels. She took her place up again at the university, continuing her studies. She visited the local café every morning, bought groceries every other Friday, took daily walks in the park, and read a book a week, just as she had before her life took a drastic turn.

But no matter what Ariadne did, nothing felt the same anymore. How do you return to a simple, everyday life when you have known so much more? When you've sculpted and shaped landscapes, buildings, whole towns even, from the very core of your own imagination? It was pure creation. Her sketches for the university program, which once seemed so original and fresh and fun, now seemed boring and incredibly mundane. She longed so much to go back in time one month and build and rebuild worlds completely from her own imagination. She missed everything about dream invasion.

_There's nothing quite like it._

Arthur.

Of those thirty days, seventeen hours, and now fifty-three minutes and twenty-two seconds, Arthur had never left Ariadne's mind. The last time she had seen him was when they had left the airport. Twenty-seven minutes and ten seconds after the inception was complete. They were waiting on the curb for a taxi, twenty feet apart. Ariadne had noticed that his eyes had been boring into her. His expression was hard to read, and she simply stared back. Arthur opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then two taxis pulled up. Each got in and went their separate ways.

When she dreamt, it was always of him. Usually it was of their kiss in that hotel lobby that she had designed. She had become fearful when the projections started to notice that the dream was being invaded, but then Arthur leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. She instantly felt calmed, although she was shocked by the notion. But the projections were still looking,

_It was worth a shot._

Was it worth a shot to try to shake off the projections? Or was it something worth being looked at? Ariadne couldn't decide how Arthur had intended that statement and mulled it over and over in the month since inception. She knew how she wanted to interpret what he had said and what he had done. She loved to think that Arthur genuinely cared for her and was interested in her. She wanted to believe that he actually wanted her, that he kissed her simply because he wanted to. But she knew that was probably not true. After all, she hadn't even heard from him since.

Until later in the evening, just as she was about to go to bed. The phone rang. Ariadne almost didn't pick it up because she didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

"Ariadne," a familiar voice said on the other end.

"Arthur?"

"It's good to hear your voice." She could hear that he was smiling as he said this.

"Likewise," she replied.

"Listen, we have an other job. Cobb's out, but the rest of the team is the same. Will you be my architect?"

Her heart raced. How could she have ever doubted that she had taken a part in dream invasion? This was her life now, and she fully embraced it. Being able to work with Arthur again was simply an added bonus.

"Of course."

"Remember the warehouse from the Fischer job? Be there at eight a.m. tomorrow morning."

Ariadne could hardly bring herself to sleep. When she finally was able to doze off, she didn't dream. All the dreaming would be saved for tomorrow.

* * *

That had been the very first time that Arthur had spoken to Ariadne in about a month. Had it really been that long? He supposed it had been. The time had flown by since the success of the inception, with keeping a low profile and checking around for new jobs, but at the same time, it had gone so slow that Arthur could feel the second hand lag on his watch, a heavy weight tied to it.

It had been one of the most difficult things that Arthur had ever done, not contacting Ariadne during that timeless month. He had dialed her phone number and then hung up so many times that he now had it memorized. He had written her a number of letters that sat in stamped and fully addressed envelopes, accumulating in the left hand drawer of his desk.

Arthur wrote and attempted to call to explain himself. He wanted to let Ariadne know why he had kissed her in that hotel lobby during the Fischer job. It took him about a week to final build the courage to come up with an explanation. Yes, he had kissed her in hopes of distracting projections. But Arthur knew that there was a very poor chance of this having any affect.

So then why did he do it? He hardly knew. Until one day when he saw a brunette walking down the street wearing a green scarf. His heart hammered wildly in his chest. Arthur thought that by some miracle, he had seen Ariadne. He went to call out to her, but the girl turned a street corner and he saw her face. He then realized two things: that it was not Ariadne and that he wished more than anything in the world that it were. His heart dropped to his feet and then a mile down into the ground beneath him. His throat closed and his head began to hurt. Arthur went home.

He now understood why he had kissed her. It had been there plain as day all along, but he had never chosen to recognize it. He had kissed her simply because he had wanted to. He wondered what it would be like. In truth, he had fancied Ariadne from the moment he met her. However, the Fischer job was just that – a job. Arthur had to remain professional. But in that dream, they were alone, and Arthur had decided to act recklessly. He would do it again if he had the choice.

He wanted so badly to talk to Ariadne, to know what she felt, and what she thought the kiss had meant. He wondered about it every day, and dreamed about it every night. Sometimes Ariadne would tell Arthur that they were just doing business, and other times she would lean over and gently kiss him, just like he had kissed her.

But soon enough, there would be no more wondering. Arthur put his phone on his nightstand table and turned off the light. Tomorrow morning he would see Ariadne once again, and he would have his answers shortly after.

Arthur could scarcely go to bed that night, because he didn't want to miss waking up.


End file.
